


Those We Thought Lost

by Jemini93



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, Family, Friendship, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:20:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25597183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jemini93/pseuds/Jemini93
Summary: Bucky Barnes was a big brother once. Could that still be true?
Kudos: 5





	Those We Thought Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Set post Civil War. Based on the idea of Bucky having a still living sister in the comics. First written in 2016.

Drained.

That was the best way to describe how Bucky Barnes was feeling right now. Having taken Sam Wilson up on his suggestion that he should come down to the VA sometime, Bucky had experienced an emotionally grueling but enlightening afternoon. He knew why Sam had suggested it. He believed that the key to recovery was sharing memories with those who had been through similar experiences. On this basis, Bucky had had his doubts about the VA. There were unlikely to have been many people whose lives had had a similar trajectory to his and dealing with the attention of large groups still made him nervous. Another consideration was the other attendees at Sam's meetings. How were they going to react to the presence of the man the world knew as the Winter Soldier? A deadly, recently declassified ghost. He had imagined hostility and fear. The last thing he wanted was to turn up to a meeting designed to help healing and cause discomfort. When he had taken a seat in one of many plastic chairs positioned in a circle, he had felt acutely uncomfortable and foolish.

As it turned out, the reaction of the others had been very different to his expectations. The men and women treated him like a fellow soldier. Just another hurt soul trying to piece himself together. He couldn't help the initial suspicion that Sam had given them a pep talk and that they truly felt very differently about him but as they shared their none too pleasant tales, he began to feel more comfortable among them. When it came his turn to share his ever-coalescing memories, he avoided events after the War, talking about his experiences at Azzano and with the Howlies. Things they could relate to. After that, he had spent the better part of an hour listening to a Vietnam vet discuss his own war. Apparently the soldiers in that conflict had not been seen as the heroes that Bucky's contemporaries were. After seeing the pain the Vietnamese civilians were put through, the public had treated returning soldiers with contempt. That, the man had said, hurt nearly as much as the blast that had taken his leg. Bucky could only sympathize.

He felt warm relief as he reached the door to his apartment, having been dropped off by Sam moments before. He fished a set of keys out of his pocket with a soft jingle. He took pleasure in the sound of the jagged metal slotting into place and turning in the lock. The feeling of coming home was a sensation both innate and novel for Bucky.

The person with whom he shared his home, his closest friend Steve Rogers, was absent. SHIELD was rebuilding after the Insight debacle and found themselves in need of a reliable face to reassure people of the integrity of their operations. This made Bucky smile hollowly. Once again, Steve was a poster boy. At least nowadays he insisted upon more autonomy in that role.

Bucky crossed to the fridge, opening it to peruse the contents. After a moment's consideration, he plucked a bottle of beer from its shelf and sat on the couch. The replacement metal arm he had been given twisted the cap off effortlessly.

It was only now he was sitting down that he realized the extent of his fatigue. He made a valiant effort to stay awake, turning on the TV. The station was playing a children's programme about a group of anthropomorphic computer generated rabbits that gave way to a commercial for concert tickets. He flicked through channels, each less riveting than the last. It was a puzzle to Bucky how there could be so many options but still nothing of interest. Eventually he leaned backwards and closed his eyes.

/

He was wandering through a crowd. He was outside a stadium and the place was full of jovial people. This would impede his ability to take out the target and make mission failure more likely. A dull sense of dread accompanied that thought. Failure brought pain. Except he had already succeeded. His target had been shot through the heart almost 48 hours ago. During briefing, he had been instructed to radio in as soon as the target was terminated and report to a warehouse outside the city for extraction.

Except he hadn't reported to the pick up location. He had spent the last two days wandering through the city, haunted by a vague sense of recognition. For this, he had no explanation.

As he walked further from the stadium, the crowd thinned out and the edge of unease subsided. He was beginning to attract curiosity. Glances were directed his way, but glances only.

All except for one dark haired woman. Her face stared at his and searched it for something he could not fathom. A look of shock seemed to strike her. She called to him. This was a new feeling, he was never directly addressed unless necessary. Her mouth was forming words. He could read the soundless syllables as well as though they had been shouted.

"James? Bucky?"

She began to walk towards him. He immediately appraised her for vulnerabilities. Killing her would attract attention and assailants but he was prepared to do so if the need arose. Suddenly, a man approached her, saying something. A name somehow familiar.

"Rebecca? What's the matter?"

"Nothing, dear. It's just I thought I saw someone I-"

He was no longer there when the woman looked back.

/

With a sharp intake of breath, Bucky's stormy blue eyes flew open. It had been at least an hour from dusk when he had arrived home. Now, the room was completely dark, save for the television, still flickering inanely.

He leapt to his feet and ran to his room. 'Where is it where is it where...? Ahh' he thought, seizing a battered backpack. He nearly tore the zipper clean off in his haste to get at the contents. He extracted a blue marbled notebook and a pen, flipping to a blank page and scribbling down the dream, his first returning HYDRA memory for a while, furiously. His mind was almost as frenzied as his scrawling hand. 'I saw her. She saw me. When I was still the Asset.'

Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening caused Bucky to look up sharply with heightened alertness. "Buuck? You in?". The sound of Steve moving through the apartment preceded his head appearing around Bucky's bedroom door. Immediately he took in the sight of his best friend surrounded by his collection of notebooks, pen to paper. "Where were you?"

"You remember I told you there were a couple times I nearly broke the programming?" Bucky asked. Steve nodded "This was the first time. 1962. I'd just completed a mission in New York and went AWOL for a couple days before they found me." Bucky took in a sharp breath. What had followed hadn't been pleasant. "Wandered around the city aimlessly...Becca saw me."

"You sure?"

"She's my sister, Steve. Yeah, I'm sure."

Steve looked thoughtful, a slight smile at the corners of his mouth.

"What?"

"Just thinking about when she used to play with us when we were kids. Regular Scout Finch." Bucky and Steve had read To Kill a Mockingbird after Bucky had awoken from cryo in Wakanda and the central character had reminded them forcefully of Bucky's plucky, tomboyish little sister.

Bucky remembered now too. His mother's exasperation with her unladylike dress sense. Her penchant for accidents. The way she had enthusiastically followed himself and Steve around. Her hero worship of the two older boys. At least with Emma and Rose his ma had feminine company. Bucky smiled down at the edge of rough woven rug he was fiddling with. "D'ya know what happened to them?"

"No. Sorry Buck. I did think about finding out but...I'd just lost you and 70 years. Wasn't ready for it. Things got a bit too hectic after that."

Bucky looked directly at Steve "I wanna find her. Find all of them." Steve shot him an uncertain look. "I know, Steve, don't get my hopes up. I just...need to know."

"We'll start looking tomorrow." Steve said, crossing the room to place a hand on Bucky's shoulder.

/

After hours of trawling through public records, Bucky felt an intense feeling of frustration and fatigue. With a heavy sigh, he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes to relieve the strain caused by sitting in front of a laptop. "Any luck?" Steve asked, walking past with a plate of toast.

"I'd be looking happier."

Steve offered The plate to Bucky, who took a slice absent mindedly. "There is something we could try. Sharon. Peggy may have contacted your family after the War."

"Have you seen her since...y'know?" Asked Bucky, barely suppressing a grin.

Steve reddened slightly "Errrr no."

"Kiss her and never call, huh? Where are your manners, Rogers?" Bucky teased. He got a gentle shove in response.

"I'll call her in." Steve told him.

/

A week or so later, Sharon Carter came up with the goods. They had an address for Rebecca. Steve was all for driving there straight away but Bucky pointed out that he would rather not find his sister after upwards of seventy years only to kill her with a heart attack as soon as she saw him. Steve suggested writing a letter. After getting through a whole notebook of drafts, Bucky finally came up with something half decent. He had stood in front of the postbox, the letter balanced precariously on the flap for almost five minutes before Sam had given his shoulder a jostle and it had tumbled into the void, earning the former pilot a frown.

A week had passed with no response. 'Sharon's intel was wrong. She's already gone. I missed her.' Bucky couldn't help thinking. Still he checked the mail box until he was rewarded with an envelope, hand written in slightly wobbly cursive. Bucky's mouth felt dry. He seized the letter and rushed back to the apartment, sitting down at the kitchen table and ripping the envelope. He could almost hear his mother chiding him for carelessness. Paying the recollection no heed, he read the letter.

"Bucky,

I wrote this at least ten times before realizing that this isn't the way it should be done. We should be face to face. Please come and see me. We have so much to say. Come anytime.

All my love, your sister, Becca."

Bucky's Adam's apple seemed to have grown several times larger. He swallowed heavily, his breathing shuddering. She was alive. He hadn't truly expected that until now. Two spots of water spread across the bottom of the paper as he reread the four lines written on it incessantly. He pushed the letter out of the way as he felt more tears coming. He still had family and he was going to see them again. Against all odds. Despite HYDRA's best efforts, another piece of his life was restored to him.

/

The following day found Bucky and Steve standing on the doorstep of a neat suburban bungalow, flanked by beds of wildflowers. Poppies were always Becca's favorite 

"You ready, Buck?"

Was he? Bucky felt lightheaded. But it was now or never. "Here goes" he said tightly and rang the bell. It made a pleasant trilling sound. The enhanced hearing given to both the men by their respective versions of the serum detected shuffling inside. Almost a minute passed before a voice called "Coming! Sorry, coming!". Bucky took a deep breath and, to his surprise so did Steve. 'Why not? He was close to her too. Our families practically lived in each other's pockets' he reflected. Steve wasn't only here for Bucky's benefit. A door chain was released on the other side before the dark wood swung wide.

It is often said that people do not change much. Old photographs still carry an unmistakable resemblance to the person's current self. Beneath the shoulder length white hair that used to be brown and decades of lines on her face, Rebecca looked so much like the young woman Bucky had bid a tearful farewell to lifetimes ago. Eyes identical to his own stared at him in amazement. Clearly Rebecca was feeling the same. After a frozen moment, she gasped "oh my God! It really is you!". Even her voice, though aged and worn was achingly familiar.

"Hey, Becca." Bucky had barely responded before he was dragged through the threshold into an impressively tight embrace. His arms slowly enfolded Rebecca's small frame as she buried her face in his shoulder, shaking with tears. He realized it was his left and immediately tensed. Rebecca pulled away, noticing Steve for the first time.

"Stevie?" She asked "you've grown since I saw you last. My, you're even taller than in the movie reels!" Her eyes sparkled at her own jesting.

"You're going with that, huh?" he replied. Rebecca grinned, the lines around her mouth and eyes deepening "good to see ya, Becca."

"Come in, you two!" Rebecca lead them inside with a slightly limping gait.

"You okay?" Bucky asked, feeling brotherly concern rising in his chest.

"Never mind that. Had a fall a few years ago. Hip's never been right since." She showed them into a small, cluttered yet inviting living room. Bucky found himself sitting on, or rather sinking into, what must have been the softest couch in the world. A voice floated to the forefront of his mind. "'Too soft!' she grumbled' a woman's voice recited. A child giggled. Emma was being read her favorite story. Or was it Rose?

He had someone to ask now.

Rebecca was walking off. "Hey, Becca, where you going?"

"Tea! Or would you prefer coffee? Or something a bit stronger?"

Steve immediately stood "Becca, let us take care of it.". Bucky rose.

"Just siddown, both of you!" After extracting what they wanted, she shuffled off, returning minutes later with three mugs and a biscuit barrel nearly the size of a beer keg. Clearly Rebecca had inherited their mother's habit of being a 'feeder'. She looked lovingly at the two of them.

"I knew. Somehow I knew that neither of you were gone." She said "We got the letters to tell me you both had been killed in action and I almost tore them straight up."

"Sorry for not coming earlier." Steve told her.

"Well, you both have been very busy. I've been collecting newspapers." She smiled.

"Becca. D'you know about-" Bucky swallowed heavily. He had hoped the topic of his whereabouts for the last seventy years wouldn't come up this quickly but it was better this way "Becca, do you know about the Winter Soldier?"

Her face contorted into an expression of intense sadness and anger, reminding him of the way Steve looked whenever HYDRA was mentioned "the truth is out, now. Yes, I know. They...made you...controlled you. Oh, Bucky, what you must have been through." She leaned across to place a hand on his knee.

"I was asleep for a lot of it. Frozen, like Steve was. I didn't know what was happening most of the time. They buried my memories, sort of programmed me like a robot. It was like being in a dream." Bucky lied. He was not going to tell his ninety-six year old little sister the horrific details. Older brothers were supposed to protect their siblings. Of course, Becca looked like she wasn't buying it. She gave him an odd look. Bucky carried on "Steve broke me out of it. I wandered around for a bit. I take it you saw the news about Vienna?"

She shook her head sorrowfully "yes. All those poor people."

"That's when Steve found me again. Things, err, got a bit crazy after that." Steve snorted at the understatement "settling down now though" Bucky finished.

"I remember seeing you." Rebecca told him. "I had to convince myself it couldn't be you. But it was, wasn't it? They sent you to New York."

"Yup. Last time they did that. I started to remember. Went AWOL round the city for a bit. They banned sending me on missions near home after that."

"You were fighting back." There was an odd note of pride in her voice.

Bucky nodded, feeling his breath quicken at the thought of what happened every time he had. Still, the moments of agency had been almost worth it.

Almost.

"Bucky? You okay?" Rebecca asked. Steve's hand was on his shoulder. He dragged himself back to the present, only slightly disorientated. He cleared his throat.

"So...what about you?"

"I got married. You'll never guess who."

"Not George Farnham?" Steve and Bucky asked.

"Now, you two! It's a little late to disapprove! He matured a lot while you were away. We had two children. James, after you, and Lucy. I've got five grandkids and one great grandkid. You might meet one of my grandsons later. David lives close by and pops in most days on the way back from work. He's a lawyer's assistant. Like his parents."

Bucky was a little overwhelmed. Luckily Steve stepped in "that's great, Becca!"

"Let's get you some pictures. After I got your letter I dug some out ready." She shuffled off again. It was only now Bucky remembered his now cold tea. "You okay, Buck?" Asked Steve.

"I think...yeah" he replied vaguely. After Rebecca returned, the three of them poured over the box of memories she brought with her. Her wedding, their mother smiling happily. The two younger girls beaming over the top of bouquets. An older, smarter looking George with his arm around Rebecca.

"What happened to them?"

Rebecca sighed "Ma took losing you hard. You and Steve. Took her years to recover but she was a strong woman. She passed when Lucy was about ten."

"Emma and Rose?" Bucky asked, his stomach lurching slightly at Rebecca's look of sadness.

"Rose passed away fourteen years ago. Emma...she died when she was about thirty. Car accident."

Bucky couldn't help but flinch. Stark's parents had had a 'car accident' too. He angrily pushed down his paranoia. HYDRA would not bother with someone like his youngest sister.

"Did they...have any children?"

"No. Emma wasn't married and Rose? She was too busy to get round to it. She was an amazing aunt to mine though."

"I wish I could have been there." Bucky told her sorrowfully, feeling the sting of tears again.

"So do I. Both of you would have made fantastic uncles. Lord knows you put up with me trailing around you when we were little!"

Bucky recalled a young voice complaining '"Buckyyyy, Stevie wait up! Can I play?"

He had groaned "What d'ya think Steve?"

"Come on, Buck, she won't be any trouble." Steve, ever fair, had replied.

"Gahh. Go on then. But you gotta keep up okay?" Bucky had told her "Even if you are a girl."

"Girls can do anything boys can!" The eight year old pouted "So there!"

"Come on then, those trees ain't gonna climb themselves."

"Unless some of them can walk." Steve had joked which made Becca laugh.

His mother had then appeared from the kitchen, with Steve's close behind "James, don't be too long. Dinner will be ready at five o'clock whether you're home or not."

"Got it, ma!

"And don't let your sister climb too high!" his mother fussed

"Sure thing, ma! We'll take good care of her!"

"Steven, keep an eye on him." her voice was both warm and stern.

"Why's he gotta keep an eye on me for?"

"Because he's sensible." Bucky had snorted at that. Steve, the sensible one? That was a laugh.

"You hear that, Stevie?" Sarah asked her own son.

"Yes, ma" the smaller boy nodded before the three children bolted out of the door.

"Honestly, Sarah" Bucky remembered his mother saying to her friend "those boys of ours. They're either going to save the world one day or burn it down.". Bucky reflected how prophetic those words had been. Later that day they had returned with skinned knees. They were only ten minutes late for dinner.

Suddenly, Becca's voice brought him back to the present. "Remember these?" She was asking Steve.

"Wow. Yeah I do". She had produced a sheaf of Steve's old drawings

"All your commissions" Bucky smiled. Once Rebecca had discovered Steve's talent, she had come up with a constant stream of requests. Once, he had presented her with a picture of herself and her family for her birthday. She had almost crushed his skinny frame with a hug and the drawing had immediately been fixed to the wall with pins. Bucky and Rebecca's mother had added a frame later. Memory after memory spilled from the box and was discussed in detail. They shared stories of the very different, yet inexorably linked lives they had each lead as the shadows lengthened outside the window.

Suddenly, a car pulled up in the drive outside. A few moments later the door opened and a man around Bucky's physical age walked in, carrying a bag of groceries.

"Hey, Granny, sorry I'm late. Traffic was murder." He stopped, noticing the other people in the room "who are these guys? What did I say about opening the door to..." He stopped, blanching. "Wait, Steve Rodgers? What's Captain America doing in my Grandmother's house? And...wait that's..." He was looking at Bucky now. Bucky studied him. It seemed his father's dark eyes had skipped a generation or two.

"I think you'd better have a sit down, dear. Steve, Bucky, this is David. My grandson."

/

"So let me get this straight. My great-uncle is the freaking Winter Soldier and you grew up with Captain America?"

"Your great-uncle is Bucky Barnes and I grew up with Steve Rogers." Rebecca corrected "and don't use coarse language."

David still eyed his young-old relative wearily. Bucky could hardly blame him.

"David, please stop being so protective! I might be old but I still have a good head on these shoulders!"

"Sure, Granny, but dammit, this is a lot to take in!"

After David had satisfied himself that his grandmother was in safe hands, he left for home. Rebecca apologised for her grandson's manners.

"Believe me, I get it. Good to see he looks out for you."

"That he does. He's a good boy. A bit hotheaded perhaps but, then again, I grew up with that." Again, she shot Steve a teasing look, no doubt remembering confrontations with children far bigger and meaner than any of them.

/

Bucky and Steve eventually left the house after dinner. As Bucky hugged his sister, she pressed the wedding photo into his hands. "I want you to have it."

"Wish I was in it. Me and Steve. Wish we had been there." Bucky felt a wave of anger at HYDRA for all those stolen moments.

"So do I, my brother. But you're here now, which is the next best thing." she said, cupping his cheek "will you come for lunch Sunday? You can bring...who is the guy with the wings?"

"Sam." Steve replied.

"Sam. Got it. One o'Clock?"

"Sure thing, Becca."

"Can't wait".


End file.
